The double life of a college freshman might be more impressive than that of an international spy or unfaithful spouse. Whereas the spy and spouse have their real lives and their undercover ones, the college freshman has two real lives and no where to hide.

So here we are, spending 18 years of our lives living out 18 years of more or less the same routine with more or less the same tight knit group of people we often call a family. Then suddenly, for thousands upon thousands of dollars, we are whisked away and sent to live on our own with thousands of others in the same situation. In this new environment, we quickly learn the cultural rules regarding anything from what time the dining halls open, to the best places to party, to which professors pretend not to care when you skip class and which ones do. For three and a half months, we cultivate our other life carefully. Without the comfort of the family and friends we left at home, social experimentation is inevitable. We talk to new people and find a version of ourselves that fits in this new world. Soon we realize that everything we were before doesn’t matter here. No one knows how well we did in high school, who we dated, what clubs we were president of, even what clothes we wore. And better yet, no one cares. Naturally, given this chance at remodeling ourselves in this new place, we take it. We tweak and tuck, smooth and stretch. By the end of our three and a half months, we are fairly content with the prototype of our improved selves.

Then winter hits. Almost as quickly as it began, we move back home. We slip back into our routine. We remember that comfort that came with our old selves. High school drama is once again law, and the prototype falls away, leaving the original model.

21 days might make a habit, but a semester away won’t leave a person set for life. Of course, there are differences. The freedom of college still resonates in your bones. The education probably opened your mind more than you thought. Suddenly staying up until 3am isn’t difficult like it once was in high school.

I’m about to start my second semester of college and I can’t help but sit here and think about the two selves of my double life. When I’m home, my mother swears that I’ve regressed since the summer. I bargain with my little sister over who should do the dishes, I make faces at the excessive amount of vegatable soup in the fridge, I sleep till noon and refuse to be motivated it until the sun has set. On the other hand, no one asks me when I’ll be home anymore, there is no consistent nagging about what I need to get done, and my relationship with my parents seems to have improved greatly.

Though it’s not quite the same as when we were attached at the hip 24/7 in our high school days, my friends and I fall into the same routine of mini drama keeping us busy during the day and planning adventures that keep us talking all night. There is no tweaking and smoothing while I’m hanging out with them, only comfort and carefree crazy because it’s nice to not have to think about who you’re being.

As the days of winter break drifted on, the plans for “college me” seemed more and more like a distant memory. Now I’m back at school. Who I’ve been for the past 6 weeks is fresh in my mind and who I was last semester is slowly coming back to me. I can’t help but wonder how much longer this double life will last. Will there ever be a day where I think and act and feel the same interacting with my new classmates as I do with my old friends? And if this day comes, will it be because one has overtaken the other?

I really do like both the college me and the home me, but I’m not sure I ever want to let go of either of them. I love the exhilaration of being in new territory as much as I love the comfort of what I already know. Maybe the answer isn’t one over the other. Maybe the two lives will slowly bleed into each other until they blend seamlessly. And every time I switch back and forth, they seep together a little bit more.